


Speed Dating

by TheLorax



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M, Gajevy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 04:18:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11729349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLorax/pseuds/TheLorax
Summary: She had expected to be angry, she was prepared for the cliché welling of fury within her, ending in some sort of epic rant about her rights and life choices that would quiet the room and leave everyone properly contrite. What she got however, was a rush of exhaustion, a bone deep wariness that,to Levy, only confirmed what her friends had been preaching so loudly for so long. Yes, she was strong, independent and had made a good life for herself all by herself, and no, she didn’t need a boyfriend to define her happiness… but fuck if she wasn’t just plain lonely sometimes.Levy sighed, a long, defeated sigh that so clearly signaled the change within her that her friends’ raucous chatter immediately hushed. “Fine.” She said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Help me.”





	Speed Dating

**Author's Note:**

> First every fairy tail fic, and Gajevy of course, because what else is there? Not sure if I'll be doing Gajevy week this year, but I guess this is my offering. Let me know what you think!

**...}{...  
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**Speed Date**

**...}{...**

 

Levy McGarden liked to think that she had a good life.

 

She had a job that she loved as Executive Editor at Lamia Scale Publishing House, she had just finished moving in to her brand-new apartment -where for the first time in her adult life she would be living sans roommates- and she had the greatest group of friends anyone could wish for. Life, Levy thought, was indeed very good.

 

Levy’s friends however, did not agree with her assessment and made it their mission to let her know it as often as possible.

 

To them, it was an absolute shame, a scandalous oversight and a downright tragedy that their lovable, witty and “oh-so-adorable” friend did not have someone to share her life with, no matter how adamantly she insisted to the contrary. Levy had once even gone so far in her attempt to placate them that she had gotten a pet, unfortunately due to her hectic work schedule and propensity to forget all other things when absorbed in a good book, the poor goldfish didn’t make it past a week.

 

Which brought her to today, Friday, August 16th x794, where at 6 pm, under the guise of helping their _woefully_ unattached friend unpack, Cana, Juvia, Lucy and Erza descended upon Levy’s apartment with the intensity of a biblical plague, armed to the teeth with questions, complaints and unwanted suggestions.

 

“Uh huh,” the petite blue-haired woman mumbled, tamping down the urge to sigh as she half-listened to the other women air their grievances. Normally she had no problem with their criticisms on the piteous state of her love life, she had gotten far too accustomed to this vein of conversation to be bothered. In fact, she had long since decided to find their dedication more endearing than annoying. Tonight, however, she just couldn’t muster the strength to find is as “endearing” as she usually did.  

 

It would have been a different matter entirely if they had actually been helping her sort through the stacks of boxes that held her entire life as they chastised her, as they had promised to do. Instead, after spending hours pestering her into accepting their aide they had pushed their way through the boxed forest that was her living room, plopped onto the few empty spots of floor, swigging wine out of Cana’s seemingly ever-present bottle, and began reciting what she assumed were excerpts from a list (they had no doubt spent years compiling) of reasons why she shouldn’t be single.

 

Perhaps it the stress of moving, or maybe the few sips of wine Cana had forced on her, it could have even been the brand-new apartment that she knew in her heart was just way too big and lonely for a pet-free (R.I.P Bubbles, we hardly knew ye) single woman, but as Levy tip-toed precariously on a stool to fill the top shelf of a bookcase (without help she might add) her friends’ words coupled with the mounting agitation at their unhelpful intrusion was causing something inside her to stretch to its limit.

 

Maybe Lucy was right that she did spend most- ...ok, _all_ \- of her Friday nights at home reading, but when had enjoying a good book become a crime? And considering how often Lucy used her as a personal editor for her manuscript, you'd think the blonde would be a bit more appreciative of her friend’s bibliophilic nature.

 

Perhaps Juvia was correct that it had been a while since last she went on a date (one year, two months, three weeks and six days- but who's counting…). But wasn't time alone supposed to foster personal growth? Sure, she hadn't been traversing the globe, _Eat, Pray, Love_ -ing herself to personal enlightenment, but she liked to think that her alternative Work, Read, Sleep, was doing the trick just fine.

 

And, while she was loathed to admit it, Cana’s very blunt “do you want to die alone, an old spinster, crushed by her books?” did hit a little too close to home after last month’s disastrous shelf toppling...

 

The final blow came when Erza, the commanding red-head perched on the only chair in the room, looked up from the slice of cake she had brought with her to meet Levy’s eyes. “We are your friends Levy, let us help you.” And just like that, the band of what Levy had assumed was her patience, snapped.

 

She had expected to be angry, she was prepared for the cliché welling of fury within her, ending in some sort of epic rant about her rights and life choices that would quiet the room and leave everyone properly contrite. What she got however, was a rush of exhaustion, a bone deep wariness that to Levy only confirmed what her friends had been preaching so loudly for so long. Yes, she was strong, independent and had made a good life for herself all by herself, and no, she didn’t need a boyfriend to define her happiness… but fuck if she wasn’t just plain lonely sometimes.

 

Levy sighed, a long, defeated sigh that so clearly signaled the change within her that her friends’ raucous chatter immediately hushed. “Fine.” She said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Help me.”

 

One more sigh and a pout at their exclamation of “You don’t need to change” later, Levy found herself pushed into the backseat of Erza’s car, sandwiched between an all too happy Lucy and Juvia, (a decision she was sure was made less because of her small size and more as a preventative measure in the event she regained her clearly lost senses and attempted to fling herself from the car) while Cana cackled loudly from the front seat with an enthusiasm usually reserved for someone who had just pulled off the world’s greatest heist.

 

As the city scenery sped by, the common adage often uttered before every epic misadventure flitted through Levy’s mind and she found herself laughing as she repeated it aloud. “What could possibly go wrong?”

* * *

 

“No.” Levy huffed, trying her best to look intimidating as she clung desperately to the door handle of the small restaurant they had just entered.

 

“Levy-chan,” Lucy, the traitor currently leaning against the door, cooed. “Just give it a try.”

 

The diminutive woman glared. “Not happening.”

 

 “Come on, Blue,” Cana drawled, appearing at Levy’s side slinging an arm around the shorter woman’s neck and shoving a glass of something hair-curlingly strong under her nose. “Loosen up and enjoy the night!” The ice in the glass tinkled lightly as Cana shook it gently.

 

Levy’s cheeks puffed and she released the door to remove both the brunette and the drink from her person. Honestly, when had Cana even found the time to go to the bar? They’d been in the place for less three minutes. “Cana! I don't need to- eep!” the startled squeak spilled from her lips as Erza’s strong hand closed around her forearm in a vice-grip. The little blue haired woman barely had time to register what was happening before she was dragged to the small host stand a few feet from the door.

 

The pretty, white-haired woman at the stand didn’t so much as bat an eye at the stone-faced redhead and the small blue-haired woman who was so valiantly trying to pry herself free of her captor’s iron-grip. “Hi, Erza-chan!” She practically chirped, her blue eyes crinkling with a smile.

 

Erza reciprocated with a brief nod, “Mira, this is Levy, she's here for tonight's event.”

 

The woman’s eyes lit up before settling on Levy. “Oh, Levy!” She cried, her tone raising in a way that practically screamed collusion. Levy narrowed her eyes, but years of her mother’s lessons on proper manners wouldn’t allow rudeness, so she grumbled out a less than pleasant “Hello.”

 

If the woman, Mira, noticed her pouty tone, she didn’t show it. “We’re not set to begin for another ten minutes or so, you’re more than welcome to wait by the bar in the meantime.” Mira made an offhanded gesture in the direction of the half-filled bar area. “When we’re ready, I’ll call all participants to their seats,” She paused to rifle through the sheets of paper resting on the host stand.

 

Peeking over the stand Levy could clearly see as Mira plucked a sheet out of the stack that contained not only her name but her phone number, email address and some sort of questionnaire that was completed in a handwriting that looked suspiciously like Erza’s.

 

“Hey! I didn’t-“

 

“-and, you are number five!” Mira cut in, smiling so widely Levy had trouble even seeing the bright blue of her eyes. Collusion indeed.

 

Erza nodded and turned back to the bar, making a bee-line for to the three women waiting there, easily tugging the less that willing Levy behind her.

 

“All ready to go?” Lucy greeted as Levy pulled herself onto the stool next to the blonde.

 

“Gods, whose idea was it to make these things so high.” Levy grumbled as she settled into the seat, looking despondently at how much space there was between her toes and the ground. “Yeah, all set. Such a speedy process since all of my paperwork had miraculously been filled out for me.” She turned a pointed look at Lucy who quickly averted her eyes, a blush dusting her cheeks. “Hm, you don’t say…” Lucy mumbled.

 

“In any case, it doesn’t look like I can get out of here,” a quick glance at Erza’s glare assured Levy that any attempt at escape would be futile, she sighed. “So, let’s see what happens, I guess.”

 

“That’s the spirit, Blue!” Cana cried jovially, appearing at Levy’s side to aggressively pat her on the back before setting down another glass of alcohol on the bar in front of the petite woman. This time, Levy took it without complaint. “There are some fine lookin’ specimens of man afoot tonight,” Cana nudged Levy as she spoke, leering wolfishly at an attractive man with blonde hair walking by. “Makes me kinda tempted to join you…”

 

Lucy snorted into the pink drink she held to her lips. “Yeah right, Cana, and what about Bacchus?”

 

Cana scowled. “Bacchus and I _aren’t_ dating. I can do whatever I want.”

 

Lucy snorted again, this time swiveling around in her seat to completely face the busty brunette. “Yeah, I’m sorry, you guys have just been in an exclusive fuck-buddy non-relationship for the past five years. Definitely not _dating.”_  

 

“And what about you and Mr. Pretty-in-pink? Huh, Blondie?” Cana threw back, smirking at the pink spots that appeared on Lucy’s cheeks.

 

“ _Natsu_ and I have no problem admitting what we are to each other...once we figure out what that is exactly…”

 

Levy rolled her eyes and turned back to the drink in her hand, those two could go on all day.

 

She couldn’t deny that a large part of her had wished that Cana -or any of the other girls really- would be joining her in this…endeavor. Unfortunately, Cana and Bacchus were as emotionally tied to each other as any married couple she had ever seen, whether they were willing to admit it to themselves or not. As for Lucy, after months of what was probably the most awkward flirting Levy had ever witnessed, she had finally started dating the pink-haired engineer whose car she had accidently crashed into (and had been insufferably giddy because of it). Levy glanced at Erza, the glint of light from diamond studded band across her ring finger announcing loudly that the feisty judo instructor was also off the table. That only left Juvia, who, after last month’s train-wreck of a break up with her boyfriend of one year, Bora, had removed herself from the dating pool for a while.

 

“Levy,” Well, speak of the devil, Juvia pulled out Lucy’s now empty chair (apparently, she and Cana had moved to involve Erza in the argument) flashing her fellow bluenette a smile. “Juvia will be participating as well!” The bubbly woman finished, clasping one of her hands over Levy’s.

 

Levy arched a brow suspiciously, just last week Juvia was vehemently swearing off men. “Did Erza put you up to this?”

 

Juvia laughed lightly and shook her head. “No, Juvia just thinks that maybe this will be easier if there is someone else going through it with as well. Don’t you agree, Levy-chan?”

 

Levy smiled warmly and nodded, she didn’t know why she had been wary, this kind of selflessness was as natural to Juvia as breathing.

 

“Alright everyone!” Mira’s voice brought everyone’s attention to the center of the room where she stood surrounded by tables set for two. “We’re about to begin, so can all participants please move to the table corresponding with the numbers you were given earlier.”   

 

Levy stifled a groan and attempted to chug her drink in one gulp, much in the way she had seen people do in movies before they approached certain doom, unfortunately she didn’t consider how much stronger the drink (which she could only assume was straight bourbon) was than her usual white wine and ended up sputtering and coughing it (almost) entirely back into the glass. With an embarrassed glance to ensure that her faux pas had gone unseen she dropped from the much-too-high stool and made her way to a table with a little plastic 5 placard in the center.

 

 Looking down, she noticed two pencils and a sheet of paper in front of each seat, there was a large 5 written at the top of both sheets, one red and one blue, and lines labeled 1-10 with a space for notes next to each number, in the right-hand corner, under the heading “Second Date” were Yes or No check boxes. A moment later, the good looking blonde boy Cana had stared after took a seat across from her. The dazzling smile he shot her had her face heating up automatically.

 

“Ok, so let’s go over the rules quickly so we can get this started.” Mira began once everyone was seated, if possible, her smile seemed even larger now. “Ladies, you will remain at the tables you have been assigned, gentlemen, you will be moving from table to table- in ascending numerical order- to chat with the lovely ladies at each. After each encounter, you will have a minute to write down your notes and if you would like to see that person again. At the end of the date you will hand your papers back to me and within two days you will receive an email letting you know if a match was made. We don’t ask that you share names if you aren’t comfortable with that, you can choose to be referred to by the number you were given, because of this we ask that ladies use the papers with the red numbers at the top, and gentlemen use the sheets with their number in blue.” There was a bit of shuffling as a few tables swapped pages with each other, when the sounds died down, Mira continued.

 

“There will be ten minutes per date,” she pointed to the bar where the burly, silver-haired bartender pulled what appeared to be a large digital clock from under the bar and onto the counter top. The man, who Levy had no idea how she didn’t notice before as his muscles easily made him the size of a small car, flipped a switch on the top of the clock and a red one and three zeros lit up the screen. “when you hear this sound,” the bartender pressed a button and a loud buzz rang out through the room, “that means it’s time to move to the next table.

 

“There will be ten dates tonight, so that puts us at a little less than two hours. So, let’s make some love connections and have fun at Fairy Tail’s Fourth Annual Speed Dating Night!” 

* * *

 

This was hell. Not the usual fire and brimstone type of hell either, more a Dante Alighieri cruel and unusual punishment sort of hell.

 

It had been thirty laborious minuets spent in the company of three of the strangest men Levy had ever met. She hadn’t entered this expecting Mr. Right to just pop up and sweep her off her feet, but she was at least expecting Mr. Somewhat Normal to be in attendance to offer a bit of sane conversation. As the night dragged on however, she had come to realize that even that was too tall an order.

 

At the forty-three-minute mark, as she feigned interest in the “definitive ranking of heavy metal songs” as recited by a dark-haired head-banger in a ratty Megadeath T-shirt, she began plotting an escape plan. The bathrooms weren’t too far, surely, she could excuse herself and sneak out a window or something.

 

A quick glance behind her, however, dashed that dream. Erza was staring intently at her table, no doubt ready to sprint across the room were she to so much as move a toe away from her seat.

Levy wouldn’t have been at all surprised if someone told her that Erza hadn’t blinked for the past forty-five minutes, she was just that kind of person. How Jellal had survived dating her for ten years had been the subject of many a conversation between she and the rest of the girls.

 

The loud buzz of the timer startled Levy out of her thoughts. “Oh, thank God.” She muttered, a bit too loudly judging by the look that crossed the head-banger’s face. “I-I didn’t mean…I’m sorry Vid-Val-V-“ but he was already walking off, showing his disinterest at her half-hearted apology with a flip of his almost knee-length dark hair that knocked the plastic five off the table and onto the floor.

 

Levy groaned, quickly scribbling an “absolutely not” next to the number 8 on her score card before she bent under the table to retrieve the table marker, muttering a few choice words as she went. The piece of plastic had skidded almost to the other side of the table, forcing her to leave her seat entirely and crouch on all fours under the table to reach it.

 

It wasn’t until her fingers had finally closed around the placard that she noticed the pair of black leather boots that had appeared next to the legs of the chair across from hers.

 

Now, Levy had always believed that the personality of a man could be easily be judged by his choice in shoes (something her father had once told her a dog’s age ago), and these were the shoes of an interesting man. They were very nice leather boots, the lace-up kind with an oxford inspired stitching that had been worn just to the point of looking distressed but not destroyed, and were those… metal studs on the back?

 

She wasn’t sure how long she was under the table but the owner of the interesting boots must have thought it was too long because before Levy knew it, he was bending down to meet her. She froze as his dark jeans came into view, not tight, but when his knees bent to allow his large body to see under the table Levy couldn’t help noticing the way the material stretched taut over the muscles of his thighs.

 

One bare arm came down to rest on his knee, decorated with a zig-zag of pale scars that stretched up his forearm past the…wait…were those piercings? In his _arm?_

 

Levy was so intently staring at the four neatly spaced studs of silver imbedded along the man’s forearm that she didn’t notice that the man himself had finished his descent and was now balancing on the balls of his feet staring at her intently.

 

He readjusted his arm, and she jerked out of her reverie only to look up and come face to face with the owner of the studded appendage.

 

Levy’s lips parted as she sucked in a breath; judging from the sliver of space that separated their noses, this guy had no respect for personal space. She wanted to say something, some sort of snarky remark about his closeness, but the words just didn’t want to come out. In retrospect, she would claim this to be a god-send based on the path her thoughts had immediately decided to venture down.   

 

_‘Mavis almighty, he looks good.’_

 

Her eyes hastily scanned his features, (completely of their own accord she would like to add) and she quickly realized that the piercings on his arm were just the tip of the studded iceberg.

 

On his face alone she counted six more piercings- three studs, two over one eyebrow and one beneath his bottom lip, and three small black hoops, two on the right side of his bottom lip and one on his left nostril. She wouldn’t have been surprised to find he had more on his ears, but the wild mane of jet black hair that spilled over his shoulders blocked her wandering gaze.

 

Levy was sure that on anyone else the piercings would have been a bit much, but on this guy, with his pointed chin, unruly dark hair held back by a bandana and _‘my goodness, you could carve a diamond on those cheekbones,’_ it just worked perfectly. Not to mention his eyes. _‘Mavis, his eyes…’_

 

She had taken her time taking in all his other facial features, so Levy was fairly positive that by this point she could easily rank them from most favorite to…well… least most favorite, but as soon as her gaze met his she crossed out numbers one through five and replaced them all with “his eyes.”

 

They were such a strange color, a red so deep that it bordered on crimson. She held his gaze, searching for the flecks of other colors that were so common in other eyes, but with his there was only red, that dark, deep, unusual, mesmerizing red that cut thr -

 

“Hey.”

 

In a move that -for years to come- would cause her to drop her head onto the nearest surface in shame, Levy, so startled by his voice, squeaked and jumped, promptly crashing her head into the bottom of the table with a resounding BANG. (The stream of curses that followed were so varied and polyglottal that even a highly accomplished student of linguistics would have had trouble translating it.)

 

With both hands clutching the top of her aching head, and her eyes squeezed shut Levy took a moment to mentally berate herself for being so entrenched in waxing poetic that she forgot it was an actual person in front of her. Pushing her thoughts aside for the moment, she forced open an eye and managed to squeak out a modest. “Hi.”

 

A moment passed in silence as Levy clutched her head and stared at her lap, trying valiantly to fight the blush she felt spreading across her cheeks. Honestly, she would not have blamed him at all if he decided that the remainder of their date should be spent in silence as he waited for the buzzer to free him from the awkwardness that basically oozed off her.

 

She hazarded a glance his way only to find him staring at her curiously.

 

The corner of his lip twitched up and he smirked at her before releasing a noise that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a snort. “Gihee.” Then he pushed himself up and out from under the table, leaving the small blue haired woman alone to puzzle over the interaction.

 

She was not left alone for long though before a large hand was reaching down for her, waiting, palm up to take her hand. “Ya comin’ out or what?” He bent down again to look at her, stretching his hand closer for emphasis. Dumbstruck, Levy only nodded before removing her hand from her head to place it in his _much_ larger one, allowing him to help her from under the table and to her feet.

 

Free of the small space, the first thing Levy noticed was his size. Crouched under the table it was clear that he was tall, although to be fair, there were few people she couldn’t categorize as “tall,” but now, standing at his full height this guy easily towered over her by at least a foot and some change. To top it off, he seemed to be built of nothing but muscle. The black short-sleeved shirt he was wearing, while not overly tight, fit deliciously over his broad shoulders and left his muscular arms free for her view. And view them she did.

 

“So…” His gruff voice again snapped Levy out of her thoughts (and obvious ogling), “ya can leggo of my hand now.”   

 

Her eyes widened and she looked down… yep, she was still clutching his hand…tightly. Her face flared crimson and she dropped the appendage as if it burned. _‘Oh, please Universe, just open a hole and swallow me now.’_

 

“Gihee,” his strange laugh brought her eyes back to his face only to find him smirking down at her. “Ya sure are one strange little shrimp.” His hand plopped onto her head, patting her recently abused cranium none too gently.

 

Levy wasn’t sure which affront to react to first. “Sh-shrimp?”

 

His smirk broadened, revealing a very pointed canine, “well, look at ya,” he removed his hand to draw a line from the top of her head to his just under his pectorals, “yer so small. ‘Sure ya aren’t some kid who snuck in here?”

 

Levy’s cheeks puffed and her earlier feelings of awe (admittedly lust-filled awe) were instantly forgotten and replaced by the usual fury tied to any mention of her diminutive size. Her body instantly settled into her common “war pose,” one hand perched on her hip, while the other balled into a fist with her index finger extended to poke the oversized man in his chest. “I’ll have you know I am 27 years old,” the jabs to his chest seemed to do little more than amuse the man further, but Levy was undeterred, “and, there have been studies proving that a shorter height has been linked to longer life span, a lower likelihood of certain dis-“  


“Alright, alright, Shorty” he bent down, bringing his face almost nose to nose with hers and

 promptly cutting off her rant, “we’ve already used up three minutes of this date and I don’t really want to spend the next seven standing in the middle of the room. How ‘bout ya continue to tell me all about yer amazing shrimp-y powers from our seats?” He sent her that devilishly fanged smirk again and Levy would be lying if she said it didn’t make her a bit light headed (to be fair, she had just suffered a head injury, so she was sure the feeling could have been accredited to any number of things).

 

“Um…ok.” His smirk broadened and he reached out a hand to ruffle her hair. Levy tried to look annoyed, but she was sure the effect was ruined by the blush spreading across her cheeks.

 

Sitting across from him was strange, his red eyes scanned her features intently with no regard for modesty. It reminded Levy more of a job interview than a date and she fidgeted nervously. “So,” she began, grasping for a topic of conversation. “What do you do for a living?”

 

His eyes came back to hers, she shifted in her seat, he quirked a brow. “Not gonna continue with yer speech on the virtues of being miniscule?” Her glare must have been his desired reaction because before she could so much as open her mouth he let out his unique chuckle and held up a placating hand. “I’m jus’ messing with ya, Shrimp.” His lip pulled up again, drawing her attention to the two rings there. “I actually think your height is pretty cute.” At that moment, Levy was positive this man’s goal was to see how quickly he could make her go from irritated to tomato in under a minute.

 

He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, “Anyway,” he began, “I’m a vet.”

 

Levy blinked. “A what?” 

 

“A vet…ya know, like a doctor, but for animals…” he eyed her warily. “How hard did ya hit yer head, Shrimp?”

 

If possible, Levy felt herself get redder. “I know what a vet is.” She snapped, “I just…well, I didn’t expect- you don’t really _look_ like you’d be a vet.”

 

He snorted. “Oh yeah? And what does a vet _look_ like then, Shorty?”

 

Levy bit her bottom lip, too focused on choosing her next words to notice the way his eyes fixed on the flesh held between her teeth. “Well… I don’t know, you seem like such a “tough guy,” the idea of you cuddling some sick puppy is kind of…well…funny.” She fought a smile at the image but it was just such a silly thought, the guy looked like he would be more at home in a garage or tattoo parlor than in a vet’s office.

 

He eyed her seriously for a moment, long enough to make her feel that she had securely stuffed her foot into her mouth, before replying evenly, “Tough guys cuddle puppies too, Shrimp.”

 

His face broke into a grin and with an undignified snort, Levy immediately descended into a fit of giggles accompanied by his tell-tale “Gihee.”

 

“So,” she began once her giggles had subsided, leaving them both smiling, “what drew you to being a vet?”

 

He shifted in his seat and cast a quick glance at the clock on the bar, “We’ve only got four minutes, so I’ll give ya the abridged version, I got questions ta ask too, Shrimp.” Levy nodded eagerly. “For years there’d been this stray cat that used to come by my house, my ol’ man an’ I got so used to her that we jus’ left a food bowl out there for whenever she came by. I was visitin’ home for the holidays my Sophomore year, guess we didn’t realize we’d left the back-door open cuz she just walked right into the living room, laid down on the floor and went into labor.” Levy gasped and leaned forward, absorbed in the story. “Me and the ol’ man were freakin’ out, we had no idea what to do, pops even boiled water and got towels because “that’s what they do on shows” but he had no clue what they were even for. Gihee.” He smiled lightly, clearly lost in the memory.

 

Levy got the feeling that smiling was a rare thing for this man, he seemed far more inclined to smirking, which she found to be a bit of a shame. She liked his smirk, it was roguishly sexy and dangerously efficient at making her train of thought derail, but his smile was different, it softened his face and made him look so handsome. It was also incredibly infectious, and she didn’t even want to try and stop her own lips from pulling up as he continued with his story.  

 

“A few hours later we had 6 kittens. After that pops took her in, named her Millie, an’ when time came ta give away the kittens I took one, this little all black ball of fluff. He was the last one to be born, smallest out of the whole litter and had a scar over an eye but he was a tough little shit. Would beat up all his brothers and sisters whenever they tried to mess with him. Named him Patherlily, and smuggled him back to my dorm after the break, he’s the best cat in the world. After that, I kinda just knew that taking care of animals was what I wanted to do.”

 

Levy’s smile broadened as his story ended, he caught her eyes briefly before looking away, she was pleased to note the bit of light pink that dotted his cheeks. “Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “what about you? What do you do, Shorty?”

 

She rolled her eyes at the name, “I’m an editor for a publishing house.” He quirked a brow. “I don’t really have any amazing story on how I got into the field, I’ve just always loved reading, I have ever since I was a child, so this just seemed like the natural progression. I can’t write anything myself, but getting to help writers create their stories every day, well, I guess it’s what I’ve always wanted to do.” Levy smiled brightly and was happy to receive one in return.

 

“Sounds like ya really enjoy your work, Shrimp.”

 

“I really do. There’s nothing quite as enjoyable as being one of the first people ever to read a book. I had actually planned on spending tonight doing the final edits on a few books once I was done unpacking…” Levy sighed just thinking of the small stack of work waiting for her on her kitchen counter.

 

The man eyed her curiously. “So why’re you here? Ya don’t exactly seem like the speed datin’ type.”

 

“I’m not.” She sighed again and ran a hand over her face. “This is a product of my overzealous friends capitalizing on a temporary leave of sanity.” Levy shot a glance to the bar, and sure enough Lucy, Cana and Erza were all staring at her table. Cana raised her glass and mouthed “Nice!” shamelessly giving her companion a once over, Levy rolled her eyes and turned back to the man who, judging by the smirk, hadn’t missed the interaction. “So, what brings you here? You don’t seem the speed dating type either.”

 

His expression soured. “Tch, I ain’t.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at a group of three people watching their table just as intently as Levy’s friends. There were two men, one broody and dark haired who bore a striking resemblance to her current date and the other, a spikey-haired blonde, had his arm slung around a woman with silvery hair. “My damn cousins brought me here, told me we were jus’ goin’ out for drinks, next thing I know I’m being shoved into a seat across from some crazy red-head.” He paused to shoot a scowl over his shoulder at the three, the girl had the decency to look embarrassed, but the blonde boy only gave him a smirk and a thumbs-up.

 

“An’ after I let the little shits stay at my place rent-free too.” When he turned back it took all Levy had not to laugh at the obvious pout he wore. “Rouge wouldn’t ever come up with some shit like this, this has Sting’s name written all over it. It’s all because of that damn girlfriend of his, jus’ started dating this year and suddenly he acts like he invented fucking and he needs to make sure everyone else is gettin’ some too.”

 

Levy pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. “Sounds like we’re in the same boat then.”

 

His lips tilted up in the corner as the devilish smirk reemerged, causing Levy’s traitorous insides to flip. “I guess there are worse places to be.” His eyes caught hers and she blushed crimson.

 

Whatever she was about to say was cut off by the loud buzz from the clock on the bar.

 

The man cursed lightly. “Well, seems our time is up, Shorty.”

 

Levy floundered, opening and shutting her mouth like a fish out of water as she was hit with a swell of disappointment. “Wait!” Her hand stretched out and closed around his wrist before he could leave the table completely. She ignored the way her insides clenched and soldiered on “I didn’t get your name.”

 

“That’s supposed to be my line. Although… I do think Shrimp has a nice ring to it.”

 

She released his wrist to fold her arms over her chest. “Well, if you’re gonna be a jerk about it…”

 

He smirked. “The name’s Gajeel, an’ yours, Shrimp?”

 

“Gajeel…” she tested the word on her tongue, rolling it around thoughtfully. “ _Gah-jeeeeel,”_ She pulled the A and stretched the E, completely missing the shiver that ran through him. “Gajeel.” She said finally, her face lighting up as if she had just solved some age-old mystery, “I like it. I’m L-“

 

Her words were abruptly drowned out by the sounds of a scuffle that broke out on the other side of the room, “No!” The scream, accompanied by the crash of a falling chair, drew every eye to table in the far corner of the small restaurant where a blue haired woman was clinging desperately to the arm of a dark-haired man. The man was trying his hardest to escape the woman’s grip but his efforts were met with very little success. “Gray-sama!”

 

“Juvia…” Levy mumbled, staring wide eyed at the scene.

 

“Yer name’s Juvia?” Gajeel cocked his head to the side, eyeing her strangely. “Gotta say, you don’t look like a “Juvia”.”

 

The petit woman shot him a confused look, “I’m not Juvia. She is!” She pointed to the other woman who now had her arms thrown around “Gray-sama’s” neck.

 

A warm hand on her shoulder alerted Levy to the fact that she had gotten up and was making a step towards her friend. Her widened eyes whipped back to meet Gajeel’s, he shook his head slowly, a grin pulling up his lips. “No offense Shorty, but it doesn’t look like you’ll be much help there.”

 

She frowned at him, ready to debate the fact, but a look back to the scene proved him correct. The burly silver-haired bartender had already descended on the spectacle, easily plucking Juvia away, while screaming something about real men not running away from women to the attacked man. Mira was standing behind him, her blue eyes glittering with laughter.

 

Erza strode onto the scene arms folded and stern faced, followed by a grinning Cana. From the distance Levy only heard snippets of the conversation, Erza offered some sort of apology to the man, Gray. “I apologize for my friend’s behavior, however if you had any real fortitude you would have been capable of fending off her advances without assistance!” while Cana slapped the man on the back, smiling wildly as she explained, “I’ve been sending her some pretty strong drinks all night, but lucky for her you’re such a gentleman, ne? Or are you just scared of girls?”

 

Gajeel barked out a laugh, “Ya got some wild friends there, Little Blue.” Levy replied with a slack-jawed nod, watching as Erza dragged the obviously drunk-off-her-ass Juvia back to the bar.

 

“Alright everyone,” Mira called, regaining the attention of the room. “Move on to your next dates, the clock will restart now.”

 

“That’s my cue.” Gajeel scratched the back of his head, his eyes darting from Levy’s face to the table a few feet away where a pink-haired woman was eyeing him hungrily, he grimaced. “Guess I’ll see you around…”

 

Levy’s lips pulled up in a shy smile, her cheeks already tinging pink. “Guess so…”

 

“Gihee.” He smirked and her stomach flipped. “Bye, Shrimp.”

 

She dropped into her seat, a grin spread across her lips, “It’s Levy.” She mumbled, but he was already gone. 

* * *

 

Twenty minutes and two dates later, Levy was still grinning like a maniac.

 

Her mind hadn’t left the black-haired, red-eyed veterinarian and cat lover, and she was making no effort to seem even mildly interested in the other men who had visited her table. A few smattered “mmhmm”s and “oh”s were the pinnacle of her contribution to whatever conversation came her way. Sure, it was unusually rude of her, but it was out of her control. Her thoughts refused to stray from him, _‘Gajeel,’_ and if, by some miracle, she began to focus on anything other than him, a quick glance across the room ensured that her attention was back on the man with the interesting shoes.   

 

She absentmindedly waved a goodbye to the man leaving her table, she couldn’t even remember his name, something was a D she was sure, Doran-Dur-Duncan? Whatever, some people were just more forgettable than others.

 

She hazarded a look in Gajeel’s direction, only to find him already staring at her. He smirked and, despite the flare of color on her face, she offered a small smile in return before turning back to the man now getting into the seat in across from her.  

 

Levy liked to think that she didn’t judge a book by it’s cover (workplace pun definitely intended) but with this guy, it was hard to do anything else. He was short, a statement Levy didn’t get to make often. He was easily a few inches shorter than she was, but it wasn’t his height that threw her off. It was pretty much everything else.

 

His white suite was folded at the ankles, revealing a pair of well-polished brown loafers. Beneath the white blazer he either wore a _very_ deep v-neck shirt or no shirt at all; the wide swath of spray tanned chest that was revealed was completely hairless and practically shimmered with what she was sure had to be some sort of body glitter. His red hair reached his shoulders and was styled so well she had to resist the urge to ask him for tips. With the exception of his nose, which was almost comically large, his features were sharp, chiseled, but in the least appealing way. It was almost as if a sculptor had taken every supposedly desirable male feature, crafted them to an almost caricature-like level of perfection then rolled them into one -stubble, high cheekbones, cleft chin- the end result was…well, a lot.

 

He cleared his throat and settled his deep set brown eyes on her. “I am Ichiya Vandalay Kotobuki,” Levy was certain that if she had been holding a glass it would have just shattered on the floor. The man’s voice was by far the most surprising thing about him, it was deep, like voice over on an R&B album deep. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Man!”  He reached over and grasped the hand she left resting on the table top, then brought it to his lips in a quick kiss. _‘Mavis almighty, his hands are soft!’_

 

“Ehhh…..thank you…” Levy tried to tug her hand away, but he held firm, then -to her horror- the man leaned down, flared his wide nostrils and _sniffed_ her. She couldn’t help the surprised yelp that rose from her throat.

 

“Wha-“

 

“Mmm…what a lovely _parfume.”_

 

Levy balked and doubled her efforts to free her hand from his (ridiculously) soft hold. Ichiya seemed unperturbed.

 

“I hope the _parfume_ of our love wi-“

 

“-ay pal,” the gruff voice that cut him off had Levy’s wide eyes snapping up to a stone faced Gajeel who stood glowering behind Ichiya, a glance across the room brought revealed his pink haired date, glaring slack jawed at her. “it seems the lady ain’t interested.”

 

Angry red eyes glared down at Ichiya. He sputtered indignantly, “Man!” But Gajeel’s hand was already grasping the collar of his shirt, forcing him to release Levy as he was hoisted out of his seat and raised to eye level with the pierced man.

 

“Don’t you ever touch her again,” Gajeel growled, giving the smaller man a shake for emphasis.

 

“Hey!” Another voice broke in, drawing Levy’s wide-eyed gaze to the burly bartender now moving through the restaurant towards them. “Real men don’t fight in my sister’s restaurant!” He boomed, looming over the two and making quick work of releasing Ichiya from Gajeel’s grasp.

 

“He attacked me when I was in the middle of my date!” Ichiya made a show of dusting off his suit, shooting dirty looks at Gajeel with every pass of his hand. “A truly foul _parfume_ , man!”

 

“Oh ya?” Gajeel snapped, “cuz the way I saw it you were harassing your date, but if ya want to see an attack I’ll be more than happy to help ya out.”

 

Gajeel’s step towards the man was stopped by a large arm to the chest. “I said no fighting!” The bartender bellowed. “A real man listens!” His beefy arm circled around Gajeel’s bicep, pulling him away from Ichiya and towards the door.

 

“I’m goin’, muscle head,” he groused, pulling his arm free. “Oi, Shrimp,”

 

Levy jumped, her wide-eyes snapping up to meet his.

 

“Be seein' ya.” He winked and offered a little wave over his shoulder to the gobsmacked bluenette before making his way past the still smiling Mirajane at the host stand to the door.

 

It took Levy all of ten seconds to fight down her blush, pick up her jaw and run out of the restaurant after Gajeel.

 

It wasn’t hard to find him; the guy was over six feet tall and the street was nearly deserted.  “Wait!” She cried, pushing past a straggler on the street to grab onto the back of his shirt.

 

It was clear from the look on his face when he turned that Gajeel had not expected her to come after him.

 

“Levy,” she blurted, her stomach twisting at the confused look he sent her, “My name,” she explained, “my name is Levy. I just-I didn’t get the chance to tell you, you know…  before…”

 

Gajeel’s red eyes stared down at her curiously, his studded brows scrunching in thought. She fidgeted under his heavy gaze, but, despite the flaring of crimson on her cheeks, refused look away.

 

“Levy, huh?” He mumbled, narrowing his eyes seriously. “I like it.” He said finally, smirking as he echoed her earlier statement. Levy released a breath she didn’t even realize she had been holding and grinned at him. “But I think I’ll stick ta callin’ ya Shrimp.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“Gihee!” His hand landed atop her head and ruffled her hair, he ignored the glare she sent his way, “so Shrimp,” he leaned down, hand still resting in her blue locks to bring his face level with hers, close enough to cause her eyes to widen. “Have ya eaten?” She shook her head (as best she could with his hand still on it), that seemed to be the answer Gajeel had been hoping for. “What would ya say to havin’ dinner with me?”

 

“Now?” She squeaked.

 

His lips pulled up in a wide smirk, revealing a pointed canine. “Now.”

 

“I-well,” she hesitated, but couldn’t deny the bubble of excitement that was growing within her. “I came with my friends, I’d have to let them know.”

 

Gajeel’s red eyes darted behind her towards the restaurant, his smirk growing to a grin. “I don’t think that’d be necessary, Shorty.” He took a step back and released her head, allowing her to turn around just in time to spot the three heads of Cana, Lucy and Erza disappearing back into the restaurant.

 

Levy groaned loudly and dragged a hand through her hair. How embarrassing.

 

“Looks like they don’t have a problem. So, Shrimp, ya comin’ or what?” He held out a hand for her.

 

Looking at his upturned palm, Levy was hit with a wave of déjà vu, “I promise, yer safe with me, Levy.”

 

She gasped.

 

The warmth in those words were so different than gruff tones she had heard from him before. Levy had always been warm, open and caring, but she had never been foolish, and she didn’t trust carelessly. He was new, a stranger who she had only spoken to for ten minutes, half of which was spent embarrassing herself, but whether it was his words or his eyes or the fact that her name had never sounded as perfect to her ears as when he said it, she knew she could trust him.

 

Her small hand slid into his and she fought the urge to sigh as his warm fingers closed hers. Her brown eyes met his and she smiled, and damn if the one he sent back didn't just steal her breath. “Let’s go, Gajeel.”    


End file.
